


Love Is Gonna Turn Around

by DefaltManifesto



Series: And We Run [5]
Category: inFAMOUS (Video Games), inFAMOUS: Second Son
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Gender Dysphoria, Kissing, Personal Growth, Trans Female Character, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 07:38:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10715109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefaltManifesto/pseuds/DefaltManifesto
Summary: Fetch isn't sure she can live without danger. Luckily, she doesn't have to.





	Love Is Gonna Turn Around

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to let Fetch ride off into the sunset with her girlfriend okay? 
> 
> Title from Sinead by Within Temptation. 
> 
> Comments are loved. Two more fics to go guys!

[The tumblr](http://schizzar.tumblr.com)

 

Fetch bites back a scream of frustration and barely manages to stop herself from throwing the gun on the ground.

“How am I bad at this?” she asks as she tugs the sound-blocking headphones off and letting them hang around her neck.

Lucy takes the pistol from her and clicks the safety on before putting it in her holster. The target across the clearing, pinned to a tree, is free of marks but the surrounding trees are missing chunks of bark from all of Fetch’s wayward shots. Lucy squeezes her shoulder once before urging her to sit down. They sit facing one another, legs crossed beneath them.

“Remember when I first woke up?” Lucy asks. “And I couldn’t make my powers work quite right? What did you tell me?”

“That you were fighting a part of yourself,” Fetch says. “You were trying too hard to control it and it made it so you couldn’t control it at all.”

Lucy raises an eyebrow. Fetch scowls.

“It’s not the same!” she says. “A gun is a machine and that’s not a part of you. Your powers are.”

“True,” Lucy says. “But it’s the same concept.” She takes the gun out and slides out the magazine before emptying the chamber of its bullet. “Hold this.”

Fetch does so. The weight is familiar by now, and it’s not like she’s scared of it or anything, not really. Being shot at sucks but she’s used to that. “Okay now what?”

“Use your powers to map it out,” Lucy says. “There’s nothing in there that might explode so just thread your neon and really get to know it.”

“It’s not a cat,” Fetch grumbles, but she obeys.

If there’s one thing she knows it’s her powers. She knows the different strength and movement of each color neon, and how it feels against a brick wall or skin or sinking into someone’s head and imploding their brain. Weaving it through the gun is different. She curls through each mechanism and maps out the inside of it before moving to the outside. She understood the basic concept of how guns work, but this…this is feeling how the gun works. When she opens her eyes, Lucy smiles at her.

“Get it?” she asks.

Fetch nods. “Point taken.”

“Alright, now try again.”

They get to their feet and Fetch reloads the gun and with the parts Lucy hands her. She settles into the correct posture and then closes her eyes, taking a moment to remember what she’d felt and convince herself that the gun was an extension of her powers. She squeezes the trigger. The sound of the bullet hitting the bark was satisfying because at least it was the right tree even if it wasn’t the target.

“Improvement,” Lucy says once Fetch removes her headphones.

"Ugh.”

Before Lucy can respond, Fetch’s phone goes off. She clicks the safety on the gun and hands it to Lucy before digging into her pocket to fish out her phone and answer.

“Hi Betty,” she says.

“Hi dear. You have company here,” she says. “A Mr. Tobias Langley?”

“Never head of him,” she says. “He government?”

“No, he says he’s with some defense contracting firm,” Betty says.

“So government without the oversight,” she says. “Lucy and I will be right there. You got a weapon.”

“Just my stapler dear,” Betty says. “I don’t like guns.”

“Ma’am, I’m not even armed, you checked-“ a voice begins.

“If he tries anything, I’ll get him right between the eyes. See you soon!”

Fetch puts her phone back in her pocket with a shake of her head. “We got company. Betty is mocking them so we should probably hurry up before she drives them crazy.”

"Who is it?”

“Some defense contractor I guess,” Fetch says.

Lucy frowns. “I was afraid of this.”

“Huh?”

“Well, it was all over the news you know, the conditions of our release,” Lucy says. “No government work. But you and I are trained killers and there’s nothing stopping us from joining an international defense contracting group. I’m surprised it took them this long to start courting us.”

“Ew,” Fetch says with a shake of her head. “Well, lets go tell this guy to bug off.”

She dashes away from Lucy, making it to the front door of Betty’s house just a few seconds before her. Fetch enters first. It’s a weird habit she’s gained since they achieved their freedom a few months ago, putting herself in front of Lucy wherever they went. She supposes part of it has to do with the public. Every article on the topic came full of death threats for Lucy, and while Lucy could take a bullet just as well as she could, Fetch would rather take the hit.

 _Jesus, I’m turning into a fuck boy with a hyper-masculinity complex,_ she thinks.

Tobias Langley looks like a stereotypical military man. His hair is buzzed so close It could be blond or brown, and he fills out his muscle shirt well with broad shoulders and chest. He’s wearing cargo pants and sensible black boots and looks every inch of the type of man that Fetch has learned not to trust.

“Ladies. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says as they take a seat on either side of Betty on the couch. He holds his hand out to shake.

Fetch ignores it and folds her arms across her chest. “So. What do you want?”

“It’s somewhat classified,” Tobias says, glancing at Betty.

Fetch almost tells him that anything he says in front of them he can say in front of Betty, but she doesn’t want to use the older woman like that. She’s given more than enough as it is. She looks at Betty.

“We’re okay, you can go,” she says.

Betty sets her stapler on the table. “Well alright. I don’t have any need for secrets anyways.”

Tobias watches her until she’s clear of the room. “I’m friends with Sam Johnson> Perhaps you remember him.”

"The President’s husband,” Lucy says. “What about him?”

"He asked a personal favor of me,” Tobias says. “Something the President can’t ask but her husband is more than welcome to.”

"Okay, you can either tell us why the hell you showed up here or leave,” Fetch says.

Tobias clears his throat. “My apologies. Conduits still pose a threat to society. We have an exact count on the amount of Conduits of course – it’s 6,743. The government also has intel on all of them and know for a fact that there’s a growing terror cell located in the Deep South. Texas actually.”

“If you’re asking us to kill them, no,” Fetch says. “The whole get out of jail free thing comes with the whole don’t commit more crimes thing.”

“It’s only illegal if you’re a private citizen or if you kill a human without due process,” Tobias says. “What I, and Sam, are suggesting is that you two create your own organization. The government contracts me to gather intel and collect these suspected terrorists, and I sub-contract you to do so. Perfectly legal and prevents a large amount of human casualties. The fact is, the two of you could get in and take these groups down with minimal risk. We need that.”

Fetch glances over at Lucy and finds that her expression is a stone wall of neutrality. While she was more prone to expressions these days, the neutral expression Fetch had originally found so unnerving is still commonplace when dealing with outsiders. But…she can see the tension in her body, as though she’s a moment from fleeing. She looks back at Tobias.

“We don’t owe this country a damn thing,” she says. “So no thanks.”

“You’re right, you don’t. But I’m not here because of some sort of belief that you owe the country something or have some patriotic duty,” Tobias says and then grins. “If I had any of that, I’d be in the military. But I’ve gone through both of your files. The two of you won’t be able to make it as civilians the way Delsin will, it’s not in you.”

“And what the hell gives you that idea?” Fetch asks.

Tobias raises an eyebrow and reaches into his pocket to pull out of his phone.

"Abigail ‘Fetch’ Walker spent her time after freeing Seattle rounding up drug dealers and leaving clues for the SPD to follow, leading to the downfall of several of Seattle’s biggest drug rings.” He wipes thumb across the screen. “Lucy Kuo, who was rescued originally by Abigail and Delsin from military custody, was pivotal in exposing the conspiracy headed by Moya Jones and Jeff Sessions.”

Fetch resists the urge to tell him to leave because honestly he has a point. Delsin seems to crave a quiet existence now, like he’d gotten to experience true chaos and once the high wore off it scared him and made him want more mundane things. But Fetch…she doesn’t need to run from herself anymore but she craves it. She wants the action, the near death experiences.

“I’m not going to be a government lapdog,” she says finally.

“Well that’s the beauty of this,” Tobias says. “You won’t be. You’ll have the option to take whichever contracts you want and if you’re not interested you can say no. What I’m offering is a choice. A healthy outlet.”

Lucy stands up. “You should go. If we take you up on your offer, we’ll call.”

Tobias seems surprised by the abruptness. “I see.” He looks back at Fetch as if he expects her to disagree, but she knows to trust Lucy’s instincts. If Lucy wants him gone, she’s not going to argue.

“Here’s my card,” Tobias says, pulling out his wallet and removing a card.

He doesn’t bother attempting to hand it to them, finally seeming to understand that no matter how friendly he was, Fetch and Lucy weren’t going to warm up to him. Once he’s gone, Lucy sits back down and when Fetch looks over, her hands are shaking.

“He’s right,” Lucy says. “I want to go back to that life. I can’t help it.”

Fetch reaches over to squeeze her clasped hands. “We don’t have to talk about it now.”

Lucy nods and gets to her feet. “I’m going out. I need to think.”

She vanishes in a cloud of icy vapor a moment later. Fetch sighs and gets to her feet, heading towards the back of the house. She finds her in her craft room bent over her sewing machine as she works in the blanket she’d been making for Delsin, but she stops and turns in her chair when Fetch knocks on the open door.

"Well, what did he want?” Betty asks.

“Nothing I’m interested in,” Fetch says, the lie coming easily. “Just wanted to let you know you don’t have to stay in here.”

“If it’s nothing you’re interested in, then why do you have that confused look on your face?” Betty asks.

“We should get you a gun. Something to scare of solicitors with,” Fetch says.

Betty “tsk, tsks,” under her breath but she doesn’t bother her further.

 

-.-

 

“Hey,” Eugene calls over his shoulder as Fetch hauls the grate shut behind her.

He’s sitting at a newly furnished area of his hideout, a recliner on one side of the flat screen TV and a shitty looking futon on the other. He’s curled up on the recliner, GameCube controller in his hands. Fetch moves to sit in front of him, resting her head on his leg as she watches him suck up a blue ghost with a vacuum cleaner.

“What the fuck is this?” she asks.

“Luigi’s Mansion. Totally a classic,” he says. “At least to me. Where’s Kuo?”

There’s a low hum behind her, then a buzz. It’s a telltale sign of Eugene’s continued lack of stability in his physical form, but it’s still better than what he’d been like when they first got out of jail.

“Thinking. A defense contractor came by the house,” she says. “Wants to hire me and Lucy for some sort of domestic terrorism thing…stopping it not doing it.”

“Did you tell him to fuck off?”

"Lucy said we’d think about it.”

Eugene pauses the game, then grabs her shoulders and tugs her up onto the recliner with him. She goes easily, melting into his side and resting her ear against his chest as he wraps his arms around her and hits the start button again so he can keep playing. She watches him work his way through a hallway, sucking up ghost rats. Her thoughts twist in on themselves and she wrestles them into submission as she watches him until she can finally think of the right words.

“Do you ever wonder if you like something or want something because that’s who you are of if it’s because of what we went through,” she asks, fingers curling in the soft material of his shirt.

Eugene’s heart rate jumps up and his whole body shivers, dissolving into pixels and re-solidifying. “Yeah.”

“Because I think…part of me wants to do this. I don’t feel right sitting still and not doing anything with my powers when I could be…fixing things,” she says. She closes her eyes. “But I don’t know if that’s because I want to or if I don’t know how to live without it.”

Eugene pauses the game again and tosses his controller to the floor. Confused, Fetch sits up, shifting so her legs are looped over his lap and then over the arm of the chair. The next second, Eugene’s hands frame her face and he looks her in the eyes.

“You are a good person, Fetch,” Eugene says. “You want to stop criminals and yeah part of that was revenge at first, but you can’t tell me it was all selfish because I know better. So if you want to do this, do it. You’re a good person, and just because you get a thrill from the danger too doesn’t mean you’re a monster.”

The conviction in the words makes her eyes sting. She can’t help but see herself in the worst light possible, especially after everything she’d done, but knowing someone like Eugene who knew all her mess still saw her as a good person…it helps. She’s not sure she believes him, but knowing he believes himself is worth something. She turns her face to kiss his palm, then grabs his hand and folds it down to kiss his knuckles.

“I really needed to hear that,” she says.

“I’ll say it as many times as you need me to,” he says. The smile he gives her is a little sad. She kisses it away.

 

-.-

 

Fetch has to go looking for Lucy. She’s not answering any of her texts and Fetch understands the need to think alone, but there’s no reason for her to sleep outside because she’s too torn up by her thoughts. She finds Lucy four miles off the reservation and into the nearby national park. She’s crafted ice towers and spires, along with reflective surfaces that maintain a steady beam of ice between them. It’s an interesting experiment, and Fetch wonders how long the reflective back and forth of Lucy’s power could go on before her ice towers crumbled from the pressure. She shakes the analytical thoughts away and heads for where Lucy stands in the middle of it all.

She’s drenched in sweat and the vapor that usually wafts off her arms in waves is a slow trickle. She waves a hand in general greeting towards Fetch, but before either of them can say anything, the ice towers she had balanced her ice towers she had balanced her ice beam between groaned and then shattered, scattering their remains across the ground.

“Nice thinking you got going on out here,” Fetch says.

Lucy offer a tired laugh in response. “Yeah it’s…maybe not the most effective method.” She holds a hand out and the ice begins to melt and evaporate, flowing back into her body.

Fetch steps up behind her and pops up on her toes so she can hook her chin over Lucy’s shoulder as she wraps her arm around her waist. “Any conclusive thoughts you want so share?”

Lucy sighs, the sound more frustrated than tired. “The only thing conclusive is how angry I am with myself.”

“Why’s that?” Fetch asks. She settles back down on her feet and presses her forehead to the space between Lucy’s shoulders.

“Because I’m everything my handler said I was but I didn’t want to believe,” Lucy says.

“What do you mean?” Fetch asks, frowning.

“I mean that he always told me I’d never be able to live without this type of work in my life,” Lucy says, pulling away and walking forward a few steps. “That not many people threw themselves into it like I did. That most people need therapy to deal with the fallout of long missions under cover but I never did because that…that’s what I thrived on.”

"It’s okay, you know,” Fetch says, choosing her words carefully. The line of tension in Lucy’s shoulders and back is visible from a distance and she doesn’t want to say anything that will make it worse. “I feel the same. I like hurting criminals. I like being in danger. Before I was running away from my issues but I’m not anymore and…if I’m helping people what does it matter if I like the adrenaline rush that comes with it?”

She can see why it had been so easy for Eugene to say the words to her. It seems ridiculous to her that Lucy would feel the way Fetch does when Fetch understands how she feels, when it seems perfectly fine and normal when Lucy feels it.

“Maybe we both need to stop being so hard on ourselves,” Fetch says.

Lucy turns to face her, shrugging. “Maybe. Probably. I just can’t help wonder if there’s something wrong with me you know? Because I don’t want to settle down.”

Fetch steps towards her, reaching out to grab her hands and hold them once they’re close enough. “I don’t think so. Some people are meant to be on the edge all the time. I think we function better that way.”

“Fine…then lets do this,” Lucy says. She shrugs again, accompanies with a disbelieving laugh. “Never thought I’d see the day I’d do this kind of work on my own terms.”

“We only do what we want,” Fetch says. “No more, no less, and fuck anyone who tells us otherwise.”

 

-.-

 

Delsin is not pleased. This doesn’t surprise Fetch at all of course, because while Delsin’s desire to settle was clear, his rebellious spirit was as strong as ever.

"It’s working for The Man,” Delsin says as he pushes the shopping cart.

Fetch perches on the end, feet on top of the wheel guards and arms bracing on the cart. Delsin pauses to grab some bagels to toss in with their own groceries before continuing down to where all the sweets are.

“I mean it is, but not because we like them,” Fetch says. “Better is doing the work instead of some Conduit-hating asshole, right?”

Delsin raises an eyebrow. “Sounds a lot like Augustine.”

Fetch’s light humor dries up in a flash. “Seriously, D?”

“Fuck…” Delsin glances around but there’s no one in the aisle except them. “I just mean they could lie to make you do their dirty work. Make you feel like it’s the only way like they did with Augustine.”

“Lucy and I are too smart for that,” Fetch says. “Anything that seems a little off we just won’t do.” She shakes her head. “You worry too much.”

Delsin opens his mouth and then stops, expression turning into something pained before morphing into a grin. “I have officially turned into Reggie.”

“What?”

“I almost said you don’t worry enough,” he says, going back to pushing the cart. “But I know better. You aren’t like I was and you’re not just going to charge in guns blazing without thinking things through, and even if you did, Lucy’s cool headed enough to rein you in.”

Fetch rolls her eyes. “You’re not Reggie quite yet. Start wearing those dad jeans and then maybe you should be worried.”

Delsin shoves her off the cart.

 

-.-

 

“What about Pink Ice LLC,” Eugene says.

“Veto,” Lucy says.

Eugene makes a noise of discontent and then throws a red shell at Lucy’s kart before zooming past her with his team of Toad and Yoshi.

“Come up with better names,” Lucy says.

She’s got her arms propped up on Fetch’s knees with her head back on Fetch’s shoulder. She is admittedly not great at Mario Kart but she’d been holding her own until Eugene got salty about his horrible name ideas.

"How about Neon Age Inc.?” Delsin asks. He’s sprawled in the recliner, hand dangling over the edge to play with Eugene’s hair.

“Too 70s,” Fetch says.

“You guys are just picky,” Delsin says.

"It’s going to be plastered all over the news as soon as we file it. It’s got to be cool,” Fetch says.

The race ends with Eugene in first and Lucy in fifth. It’s the best she’s performed so far. She passes her controller back to Fetch who tugs Lucy closer in response so she can settle her hands over Lucy’s stomach.

“You want in?” Eugene asks, offering the controller to Delsin.

“Nah, I don’t need Fetch to have more ways to kick my ass,” Delsin says.

“At least you’re self aware,” Fetch says. She grabs a team made up of the Baby Bowser and Birdo before turning back to Delsin to let Eugene pick the course. “Any other ideas that don’t suck?”

“Okay, okay hear me out,” Delsin says.

Fetch looks back at the screen and then kicks Eugene’s leg when she sees he picked Rainbow Road. Eugene laughs and takes advantage of her distraction to shoot past her at the countdown.

"Guys,” Delsin says.

"I’m listening, I’m just also plotting murder,” Fetch says. “What’s your new idea?”

“Go Fetch Industries.,” Delsin says. “You’re fetching terrorists right? And your name is Fetch. It’s a pun!”

Fetch jams her thumb on the pause button. “It’s perfect.”

“Agreed,” Lucy says. “Better to keep any mention of me far away and you can’t go wrong with a pun.”

"Go Fetch it is then,” Fetch says. “But you’re designing the logo.”

When she looks at Delsin, he’s got a pleased expression on his face and she can’t help but hope that maybe he is on their side now.

 

-.-

 

Lucy’s hand trails down her side, a sudden burst of cold stinging her as she sucks a mark into the space just below her collarbone. Fetch has learned that the more pleasure she gives, the harder it is for Kuo to keep her hands a normal temperature and she craves the sudden blast of cold. It’s a sign she’s doing something right. She rolls her hips down with the light pressure Lucy’s taken a liking to, gentle enough to give her clit some stimulation without causing any dysphoria.

She leans back a little, surveying the darkening mark she’s left behind. For a moment, she almost wants to go back to doing the same thing to the other side, but then Lucy’s hand slides down the back of her sleep shorts and she leans up for a kiss instead. Lucy rolls them neatly. The casual strength she so often displays makes Fetch’s heart beat faster. She could outrun Lucy any day, but when it came to strength, years of training meant Lucy could make her feel small and protected in an instant.

Lucy sits on Fetch’s thighs, a hand reaching down to brace against Fetch’s chest. Fetch grins and lets neon stream into her hands, bathing the room in the soft pink glow as she moves them to Lucy’s thighs, pushing her tank top up and letting the neon hum and buzz its way across the exposed skin. A high pitched noise escapes Lucy’s lips, sharp cold spreading out from her finger tips. Fetch helps her all the way out of her tank top before sliding her hands down Lucy’s chest to cup her breasts, concentrating her power into her thumbs as she rubs them over her nipples.

"Fuck!” Lucy gasps.

Fetch watches as Lucy throws her head back, exposing the smooth column of her throat. She lets one hand trail down her stomach to the cotton panties Lucy always wears, sliding her hand inside to pinch the tip of her clit. Lucy squirms, a whimper escaping her and then there’s a wet warmth soaking Fetch’s hand. Fetch cuts the stream of her power off right after Lucy comes, knowing better by now not to accidentally overstimulate her right after she’s come. A moment later, Lucy leans down over her and presses their lips together. It’s sloppy, Lucy’s breath still heaving as the remaining tension drains out of her.

For a moment, Fetch lets her lead. Then she moves them again, stretching out over Lucy as she takes control of the kiss. It doesn’t take long for Lucy to become more than useless, arms coming back up to wrap loosely around her back and then slide back down to get under her shorts. Fetch sucks at her lower lip and arches her back, pushing up into Lucy’s careful touch. She’s been wet since before they started making out and she takes two of Lucy’s fingers easily into her cunt. The angle is awkward for Lucy’s hand but she doesn’t let that deter her. She gives Fetch a few teasing thrusts before sliding her fingers out and then down to rub at her clit.

"Holy…” Fetch breathes. “Didn’t realize I was so close.”

“Here,” Lucy says.

She slides her hand back out from Fetch’s shorts and slides them down in front this time. The angle lets her get her fingers back inside with her thumb a steady pressure on her clit just the way Fetch likes it. Fetch grinds down on the digits filling her, gasping into Lucy’s kiss as shocks of pleasure race up and down her spine as she hurtles towards the edge. It’s always like this with Lucy. Delsin’s good, eager to please, but Lucy has a single-minded focus when she touches Fetch, like she wants to make Fetch pass out from pleasure each time they touch each other.

When she comes, her whole body shivers and shakes. Her fingers clench down tight on Lucy’s shoulders and she pulls away from the kiss so she doesn’t make Lucy bleed on accident. The tension snaps like her strings are cut and she rolls off Lucy to flop on the bed on her back. The wetness of her thighs and shorts will make her want to move soon, but for now she revels in the feeling of a good orgasm and knowing that this time, Lucy got the same. It doesn’t always happen. Sometimes, Lucy’s dysphoria gets in the way and sex becomes frustrating. Well, not for Fetch. It makes her mad, but only because she knows it frustrates Lucy.

“Hey,” Lucy says, jarring her out of her thoughts. “For a girl who just came, you look unhappy.”

Fetch rolls onto her side and kisses Lucy’s forehead. “Sorry, stupid thought got into my head. It’s gone now.”

“Oh yeah? Just like that?” Lucy asks.

"Yeah.” Fetch smiles. “Just like that.”

 

-.-

 

Three weeks later, Lucy’s loading the last of their gear into the back of Fetch’s newly purchased truck. It’s mostly weapons Fetch has no idea how to use but she’ll learn each of them eventually, at least if Lucy makes good on her threat, or promise in her own words. The side of the truck has the logo Delsin created spray-painted on in pink and light blue. It’s a dog made to look like it’s made of neon with a bone in its mouth with _Go Fetch_ in a circle on the top and bottom, flashy and crude looking all at once. Fetch loves it.

Only Eugene and Delsin are seeing them off. Betty had said her goodbyes that morning.

“You better not do anything stupid,” Eugene says.

“I’ll only stick to things you would do,” Fetch says.

“That’s not even remotely comforting.” Eugene shakes his head and then tugs her into a hug. “Stay safe. We’ll see you soon.”

“By the end of the month,” Fetch says against his neck. She squeezes him a little closer and then lets go before turning to Delsin. “C’mere.”

Delsin steps over next, then lifts her straight off the ground in a hug. She wraps her legs around his waist and buries her face against his neck, clinging tightly as she inhales the sweet smell of wood smoke that she loves so much. When he sets her down, his eyes look a little wet. It makes her throat tighten and all at once, the planning of the last few weeks goes to the back of her mind and the only thing she wants to do is stay, even though she knows staying will make her unhappy. She glances between the two.

“I love you guys. We’ll see you soon,” she says.

She climbs into the front seat before her brain can somehow convince her to make a different choice. Lucy grabs her hand and raises it to her lips for a quick kiss.

“We’re making the right choice,” Lucy says.

When Fetch meets her eyes, the indecision melts away. She has Lucy. They’re going to be just fine.


End file.
